In Memoriam
by Beechwood0708
Summary: Follow-up to What You Weren't to Know. Life goes on in Peru, while the events that led Howard to go there in the first place are playing on several people's minds.
1. Girlfriends

I come from beyong to write fiction to make you depressed... though there are laughs on the way, honest.

Apparantly when I wrote What You Weren't to Know, I may have given the impression Howard was dead. Well, erm, he's not. Sorry.

Disclaimer: All owned by Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding, except Ciro and Alison.

In Memoriam

Howard lay still, listening to the sounds of the small house, and the passing wildlife outside. Alison held onto him. Fifteen years of marriage and they still slept in each others arms. In the next room, Ciro was sleeping, readying his body and mind for some test or other he had the next day.

"What's up with you?" Alison murmured, waking from her half-slumber.

"Do you think Ciro's… alright?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… he's fourteen, and he's never had a girlfriend."

Alison grunted. She was sick of this. "Some boys don't," she told him. "Leave him to it. He'll get one in his own time."

_A memory. Howard walks up the stairs quietly so he doesn't wake anyone. He hears voices from his parents' bedroom._

"_For god's sake, Allan, who cares if Howard's never had a girlfriend? He'll get one in his own time."_

He sighed and let himself fall asleep in his wife's arms.


	2. The Man Who Fell to Earth

Warning: this chapter contains spoilers for 'Easy Rider'. I do not own any movie mentioned here, except on DVD. And I have no idea if "Mistaldea" sounds even remotely like a Peruvian village. Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

An old friend of his and Alison's had invited them for dinner in Arequipa. Eric had decided to go down the commercial route after arriving in Peru on the same ship as they did, and now he had a lot of money, as opposed to Howard, who was content to live comfortably in a poor but beautiful little town. He had even put them up in a hotel for two nights so he could show them around the city during the day. Ciro was particularly excited about this, because as Howard suddenly realised, he hadn't been taken to Arequipa since he was a toddler.

Too tired to go out that night, they had decided just to get a DVD and watch it in their hotel room. This was another rare treat, as they had decided that in the friendly rural community of Mistaldea there was no need for them to own a television. Ciro would occasionally go to watch a DVD with a friend who had a player, but this didn't make up a substantial part of his life by any means.

Howard stretched and smiled as Alison and Ciro returned with the DVD.

"We got this one," Ciro said, showing him the case. "Alberto saw it once and he said it's really good."

'The Man Who Fell to Earth'. As Howard looked at it, his stomach sank. He hadn't seen this film in seventeen years.

_A memory. He and Vince are arguing again. As always._

_But they're smiling. They're both wearing pyjamas. Howard's are old and the memory of which ones they are is fading. But Vince's are still clear. They're black, women's, and trimmed with lace at the wide neck, with the phrase "Never a Silent Night" spelt out in different types of stitching and sequins. Howard bought them for him, because he thought Vince needed some proper ones. He never thought Vince would like them as much as he did. But he's very happy in them. He's grinning. They both are. Grinning and throwing DVD cases at each other._

_Howard pushes 'Easy Rider' to the floor. "What's wrong with 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest'?" he asks._

"_The end depresses me," Vince answers bluntly._

"_And a film where every main character gets shot doesn't?" Howard retorts._

"_That's different!" Vince insists. "They die because they're free and people don't understand them. They're a bit like us."_

"_I don't want to watch us getting shot," says Howard. "What about '28 Days Later'?"_

"_I don't want to watch anything that reminds me of diseases," Vince replies, sifting through piles of DVDs. "'Spirited Away'?"_

"_If it's weirder than living here, I don't want to see it," Howard dismisses._

"'_The Devil's Backbone'?"_

"_Ugh, nothing with a war in it," groans Howard._

"_I thought you'd be proud that I watch foreign films," Vince pouts._

_Howard laughs at him. "'Heavenly Creatures'. That's foreign."_

"_I want something more modern."_

"_Vince, it was made in 1994."_

"_But it's set in the fifties."_

"_You're impossible," Howard laughs, sighing with mock exasperation. "Why do we do this?" he asks._

"_What?"_

"_Why do we argue like this every time we watch a film? We both know it's going to be 'The Man Who Fell to Earth'."_

"_It might not be," says Vince._

"_It will be," Howard insists. "It's the only film we can both stand to watch together."_

"_Oh alright then, put it on," Vince concedes, perhaps a little put out as their sporadic DVD-fight is ended early._

_Howard puts in the DVD and comes over to join Vince on the sofa. Vince is cuddling up to him. Howard is watching the screen. Vince's presence is only known at this point by the pressure on Howard's side as he leans warmly against him._

Howard found it difficult to concentrate on the film. It was different to how it had been before, when he used to watch so intently. He could feel Ciro at his side, and as his concentration wavered he found himself thinking that Vince was back beside him.

Jut for a moment, he wondered if it was so wrong to pretend.

He heard Ciro's sharp intake of breath as he caught a glimpse of David Bowie's penis. He remembered how, the first time they had seen it, Vince had done the exact same thing.


	3. Taking Sides

Sorry for the lack of updates lately. I had an essay due this morning. I finished it... this morning.

There is quite a lot of language in this chapter, but because it's dialogue I think it's important for the mood, so I won't tone it down, but I'll up the rating if anyone has a problem.

Bollo's insult is based very closely (there's one word differently) on one I found on the Telegraph website.

My apologies for all the unfair oogyness (I've wanted to say that ever since I thought it, just a second ago) in this chapter. I do luvz you.

* * *

Howard noticed that Ciro didn't always come straight home from school. Maybe this was the sign he'd been waiting for. Desperate to find out if it was, he moved in. 

"And where have you been, young man?" he asked, small eyes twinkling.

"Just… out," Ciro answered, looking every bit as nervous as if his padre actually was angry. Howard took this as a good sign.

"Who with?" he asked.

"Oh… you know. Jaime, Alberto, Juan. That lot."

He was quite obviously lying through his teeth. Howard could always spot that. He'd seen a lot of it in his time, and done a lot of it too.

"Come on, tell me the truth Ciro," he laughed. "Who is she?" He paused. "Or he."

"What?" Realisation dawned on Ciro. "Oh, no one!" he cried, his voice an octave or two higher than normal. "No one."

Ciro was blushing quite badly. Howard wasn't sure whether to infer that he was embarrassed that his padre had figured out that he had a girlfriend, or whether it was because he sill didn't.

* * *

"I think Papa knows I'm coming here," Ciro said, a little sadly. 

Naboo looked at him oddly, raising an eyebrow. "I can't see him minding too much."

"I know, but…" he trailed off, not knowing how to explain himself. "Would he really want to… see you… now?"

"I think I see what you meant there," giggled Naboo. "I suppose not. But I think he will eventually. Everything's eventual."

"Do you think he'll be angry?"

"Probably," Naboo sighed. "But it's Bollo you want to keep an eye on, not me."

"No way," laughed Ciro, cuddling up closer to Bollo's grey side.

"No, really," said Naboo. "He and your dad never saw eye to eye."

"How come?"

Naboo shrugged. "Not many people really did. I'm sure he's changed by now, but back then he was… a bit of an arse."

"He's still an arse," giggled Ciro. "All papas are arses."

"No, I mean, he was a real jerk-off," replied Naboo.

"Bloody barely sane, badger-throwing, egg-headed malodourus bastard of questionable parentage," Bollo muttered. Ciro just looked at him oddly.

"Seriously, though," said Naboo. "A lot of people didn't really like him. He was one of those people who could never get people to take his side."

"You did, though," said Ciro, looking at him ernestly.

Naboo found that he couldn't reply.

_A memory. An argument. Raised__ voices._

"_Will you shut up- shut the fuck up for once and listen to me!"_

"_Shut the fuck up yourself, Howard, you shitface! I'm bloody sick of this!"_

"You're_ sick of this! Oh my god, _you're_ sick of this! How do you think I feel, you twisted little airheaded parasite!"_

_Naboo is stomping down the stairs to the shop. He was asleep a moment ago. He storms in, veins pulsating with angry voodoo._

_They stop. They're staring at him. Vince looks vaguely afraid. Howard still looks pissed off, but it's a muted, repressed pissed off._

_He takes a deep breath._

"_What the fuck is going on?"_

_There is an anxious silence. Howard speaks first._

"_It's just- nothing."_

_Naboo glares. "If it's nothing, then why the fuck doesn't it sound like nothing?"_

_Howard blanches and steps back, no answer ready._

"_Shut up," Naboo says, then retreats._

_The crash of something breaking._

_He snaps and spins back round. "The fuck was that?"_

_Neither answers. Howard is glaring at Vince._

_An ornamental glass statue lies shattered on the floor. It's worthless, but Naboo doesn't care. It's the principle of the thing._

"_Fuck's sake," he moans. "Vince, get upstairs and take a break, just stay out of my way. Howard, do something about that before it hurts someone."_

_He glares at Howard, pushing Vince towards the stairs. He just catches a glimpse of a raised finger behind Vince's back. Of course, now he wishes he hadn't, but he ignores it._

"_You little prick," Howard spits._

_Naboo turns back._

"_Shut your ugly face, Moon."_

Naboo realised that Ciro was looking at him, an odd expression of concern and mild curiosity on his face. He knew that Ciro would expect an answer, but he just couldn't bring himself to give one.

He wished it was later, because suddenly it seemed that he couldn't quite bear the innocent young boy's presence any more.

* * *

Ciro made an excuse and left Naboo's early. Something had upset him, and Ciro suspected he was making it worse by being there. Whatever it was- 

He couldn't really understand it. It must have something to do with his papa. Something he didn't want Ciro to know, perhaps?

He must have his reasons for it, but a niggling feeling kept coming back and tickling Ciro inside his mind.

He wanted to know.


	4. LoveHate

I don't really have anything to say about this chapter. Except maybe: "Warning: SAPPY TEENAGE ROMANCE"

* * *

Ciro intended to mope his way on home. Jaime and Alberto were staying after school for athletics, which Ciro hated, Carlos had detention and Juan and Natal had just disappeared somewhere. So he was stuck on his own, and still being a little nervous about going to see Naboo again, that left him with nothing to do but head for home in shame. No doubt his papa would hound him around a bit wondering where the pretty girlfriend was today. Why couldn't he go get a proper job like everyone else's papas?

"Ciro!" called a voice. A happy female voice.

He turned. "Consuela?" he asked.

"Are you walking this way?" she answered in reply.

"Yeah," he said, following her as she walked on.

"Then do you want to walk with me? I was going to meet Paulita at Senora Gutierrez's for an ice cream." She looked up at him and smiled. "I'll buy you one."

Ciro grinned, and Consuela rightly inferred it as the affirmative.

They walked through the village, Consuela chatting away about Paulita and her mama's new DIY project and Arcadia's boyfriend Matias and whatever else came into her head, inspired by whatever she happened to walk past, and Ciro walking with her and listening to every eager word. They reached Senora Gutierrez's farm as Consuela continued her monologue on why she'd rather have a cow than a pony, and they sat on the wall outside the old house to wait for Paulita as Consuela kept on talking and talking.

"… and so then Tia Maribel found the snake in one of the sheets on the washing line, and it had shed its skin in it."

A silence fell between them, before Consuela sighed and looked up at Ciro. "Paulita's not coming, you know," she said, much more nervously and quietly this time. "I never asked her."

"How come?" Ciro asked.

Consuela just shrugged.

Ciro smiled. "Does this mean I'm supposed to pay?"

* * *

Naboo watched Ciro go by from the window. He had needed a little break from his visits, because he knew that if Ciro ever found out the truth about his apathy towards Howard all those years before, it would destroy they boy's faith in him, and he didn't want that. He really liked Ciro.

But when he saw Ciro walk by with the pretty young lady from the town, Naboo's heart sank. With love entering into his idyllic teenage world, he may never want to come and see Naboo again.

* * *

He saw them outside the house, standing together, laughing and finishing off some of Senora Gutierrez' homemade ice cream.

"Consuela Medina," he laughed as Ciro, blushing, entered the house. "So that's who you've been with all this time."

"Oh, we only got together today," said Ciro, looking down. He smiled. "I like Consuela."

"So who were you with all the other times you've come back late?" Howard asked.

"Papa…" replied Ciro, looking away as though considering something. He looked serious, and Howard became worried. "I met Naboo."

"Naboo?" he repeated.

"He said he used to know you."

"Yes…" said Howard.

Naboo. He thought he'd seen the last of him. Why would he come here? Why in the hell would he ever want to come and see him again?

"Who's with him?" Howard asked, heartbeat beginning to increase.

"Just the gorilla, Bollo," replied Ciro.

He could hear it now, just faintly.

"No one else?"

"No. No one."

_A memory. Another argument._

"_Why don't you just fucking leave?"_

"_Because you need me Howard," Vince sneers. "You need me to make your otherwise pointless life worth getting out of bed for."_

"_Modest, aren't we."_

"_I don't need to be, Howard," says Vince, his eyes wide and innocent. "I can do anything. Anyone can see. And when you're gone, and let's face it, you probably don't have long left, I will." His face is hard now, and his voice cold and spiteful. "You're just a walking corpse waiting to be buried with all the other refuse."_

_As he remembers, Howard tells himself that he slaps because he doesn't want to damage Vince with an object or a punch. But in truth he feels a strong satisfaction at the crash as Vince's head connects with a shelf as he falls to the floor._

_Vince looks up at him, hand over his cheek and mouth open. His eyes are wide and staring, and Howard can see he is shocked and a little afraid._

_He only looks at them for a second, before storming upstairs._

"Okay."

Ciro, looking somewhat concerned, went upstairs.

Howard had hoped that he would forget about Naboo and everything else in time, but he knew that soon enough he was going to have to face him.


	5. The Calm Before

Dedicated to everyone who's reviewed chapter 4 already, and to anyone who's reviewed at all, because you're all very very nice people and I love you all. Naww :-)

* * *

Then sun rose, slow, relaxed, almost lazy, and Naboo watched from the roof. It was truly beautiful, glowing bright and pinkish gold, bathing the spreading fields in its radiance, turning the mountain to a shining point, and just touching the city far in the distance.

Beautiful.

Perhaps, Naboo reflected, this was why Howard chose to come to Peru in the first place. It is magnificent beyond doubt, especially for the English.

_A memory. A hand slapping money onto the table._

"_This is this month's rent," Howard tells him. "I'm leaving in two weeks."_

_Naboo can't quite comprehend this. Howard is leaving the room._

"_Where are you going?" he asks, following him out._

"_Peru," Howard answers. "I met a man while I was out yesterday. Says he's picking up people to help him with some archaeological dig or something. Just about anyone can do it. He's going in two weeks. I'm joining him."_

_Howard's voice seems devoid of emotion. Naboo fears for a minute that he feels no sadness at the thought of leaving them._

_Howard goes. Naboo looks over and realises that Vince has been there the whole time, quietly listening. Naboo can't quite read the emotions on his face. There are too many of them._

* * *

Ciro knocked Naboo's door. He'd hoped to come alone, but Consuela had waited for him after school. When he'd told her he needed to see someone, she'd said she didn't mind coming with him.

When he said it was Naboo, he wasn't sure what her reaction would be.

"That weird shaman guy from the edge of town? Yeah, that's cool."

It certainly wasn't what he had expected. And he was very glad of that.

"How do you know him?" she had asked as they walked towards his house.

And he had told her everything. About how he had been invited in weeks ago, and found out that Naboo used to know his papa, and Naboo had been really nice to him and he'd just kept coming back. She listened, as intently as he had the day before, and he suddenly thought that he had never had someone hanging on to his words like that before.

Naboo opened the door, surprise written on his face to see Ciro there with Consuela next to him.

"I needed to tell you," Ciro said, before Naboo even had a chance to say hello. "I told Papa you were here."

Naboo nodded solemnly. Ciro wondered if he was a little afraid.

"Thank you," he said.

"He asked who was with you," Ciro continued. "I think he meant Vince Noir."

"Of course," replied Naboo. "He'll be coming soon, I expect."

"I guess so."

Naboo smiled. "I suppose it's for the best," he sighed. He looked back at them, trying to smile a little more naturally, but not quite managing it. "Are you coming in?" he asked. "Consuela?"

"How'd you know?" Consuela laughed.

"Shaman secrets," smiled Naboo, tapping the side of his nose.

As they came in, Naboo seemed to brighten. Ciro was happy.


	6. Broken Fairytale

This is now officially the most reviews I have ever had for any one story. Thanks for all of them.

* * *

Howard honestly thought it would have been longer. A few days. Weeks. A month, perhaps. Maybe more.

But one day. He had never thought he would be so willing.

He had heard of the stranger. An odd man with customs from some other place who was rarely seen in the town.

He hadn't thought for a second that it might be Naboo.

He supposed he needed this. Naboo, Bollo… he had hardly spared them a second thought since he left the country.

And Vince…

He hadn't wanted to think of Vince. Vince was too sad a story. A story full of unfulfilled potential, a princess without a happy ending.

Vince was Snow White, left in a glass case for all her beauty to rot away because no prince ever came for her.

_A memory. The train has arrived. The train that will take him, eventually, to Penzance, and from there to Brazil, and finally through to Peru._

_He gets up slowly, and goes._

"_Wait! Howard wait!"_

_He turns, and there is Vince. Pretty, evil little Vince, who looks like he's ran half the way here._

_He turns away._

"_Howard, please, don't go!" Vince cries, and in a second Howard has a tight pair of arms slung around his waist, making him choke._

"_Don't go," Vince repeats._

_Howard pushes him away. "I'm going," he says, walking away. "You won't stop me, so don't try."_

"_Howard, I'm sorry, I never meant- what happened to us?"_

_Howard thinks that Vince may be on the verge of tears._

"_We broke," is all he says._

"_How could we break?" Vince cries, following Howard, jogging a little to match his pace. Howard hears him sniff. "You said you loved me once."_

_Howard looks at him properly for the first time since he got here. His face is flushed, and his eyes a little red. He will cry, Howard realises. Howard almost pities him._

"_I used to," he says._

_He reaches for the button to open the train door. Vince grabs his arm. "I still do," he says._

_Howard smiles sadly. "No you don't," he tells him. He reaches out, touches Vince's face, tracing his cheekbone. He watches as Vince seems to revel in it, relish it. It almost hurts to tell him the truth. But it doesn't. "I'm going to forget you, Vince. And you'll forget me eventually."_

"_I won't," Vince still maintains. A solitary tear drops down his cheek._

"_Why don't you understand?" Howard asks. He is trying to be gentle, but he can't keep the annoyance, almost malice, out of his voice. "I don't want to remember you. I don't love you, and I haven't for a long time."_

_Vince tries to say something, but the door opens and Howard boards. He tries to follow him, but Howard pushes him away and the door closes. The train moves off, and Howard watches Vince from the window._

_Watches him run after it._

_Watches him fall._

_Watches him look up from the ground, knowing that there are tears on his face._

He wondered where Vince was now.

Maybe he did find his prince. Or princess; that would be the analogy if that was the case.

Thinking about it, he hoped Vince was happy somewhere.


	7. Secrets and Bones

My fourth update in one night. I'm quite proud of that. I hope you like it, I really do.

* * *

The door knocked, and Naboo felt himself flush with heat. He got up, crossed the room, and opened it.

He wasn't quite prepared for how much older Howard would look. The lines on his face were so much deeper, and there was grey appearing in his hair.

Naboo stepped back, lost for words for once, to let Howard in.

Howard entered just as silently.

Naboo followed him into the living room, where he was looking at Ciro and Consuela as though surprised to see them there.

"Go on," Howard said to them.

"Let them stay," Naboo objected.

"I don't want them here," said Howard. His tone was far more assured than Naboo had ever heard it. No trace of nervousness, uncertainty. And no trace of pretence.

Looking at each other, just as nervous as Naboo was, Ciro and Consuela got up and left them alone.

"What happened?" Howard asked.

"Everything happened," replied Naboo.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to find you."

"To find me but not to see me."

"I was… nervous," Naboo said. Nervous wasn't quite the right word. He wasn't afraid because he knew no harm would come to him. He wasn't anxious because there was no pressure. Maybe he was just overwhelmed, though he'd been overwhelmed by things before and it had never quite felt like this.

"So you came to my son?"

"He came to me," Naboo told him. "Look, I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that. I've never used him. I like him."

"What have you told him?"

"A lot of things." Naboo can't quite manage to go into specifics straight away. "I've told him about when we first knew each other, about the zoo, the shop. He asked why you left. I just told him you wanted something new. It wasn't a complete lie. I just didn't tell him why."

Howard's eyes gazed around the room. Naboo saw them come to rest on the old photo of Vince, taken after Howard had gone.

"What about Vince?" he asked.

"He lasted eight months."

Howard looked at him. A look of shock, of confusion.

He turned back to the photo, studying it anew. "He's so thin…"

"Anorexia," Naboo informed him.

Howard put the photo down. He stood there, rigid, almost shaking. Naboo pushed him over to a chair, and he sat down. He was still hunched, his mouth was still open, and his eyes were still wide with disbelief.

"I never thought…"

"None of us did," answered Naboo.

_A memory. Chinese takeaway. Vince requested it, but he isn't eating it._

"_Do you want it microwaving?" Naboo asks, more out of habit or desperation that anything else._

"_Nah," replied Vince. He puts the plate down on the floor._

"_Please don't," begs Naboo. "Not again."_

_Vince just sighs._

"_You're ill, you know," Naboo tells him. "It's an illness, and you need help."_

"_It's not an illness!" Vince shouts. He almost screams it, and Naboo jumps in his seat. "It's… penance."_

_Naboo stares at him. "You can't blame yourself," he says._

"_Well I am," argues Vince, sullen like a teenager, but a grown man's reason to be._

"_People grow apart-"_

"_Not like that, they don't!" Vince shrieks. "People who are that close, who love each other that much, don't just 'grow apart'!"_

"_Siblings grow apart," Naboo counters. "Children who spend every day of their lives together for years and years grow up sometimes to never speak to each other again. It happens."_

"_But I made it happen."_

_Naboo searches for an answer. All these years on, he still hasn't found one._


	8. With or Without You

You know, I was actually watching my hits number go up earlier, watching someone read this story. It was quite amazing. Whoever you were, I hope you liked it. Same goes for all the rest of you.

Anyway, I think everyone else has done the sensible thing already and gone to bed, so this will be my last update tonight, I think.

* * *

"Could you imagine if I just left you?" Consuela asked.

"No," Ciro replied. "You just wouldn't."

"And we hardly knew each other before yesterday."

She sighed, and looked ahead, unconsciously mimicking Ciro.

"I just don't understand how it happens," she continued.

"Me neither," replied Ciro.

He looked over at her. She was deep in thought, her dark eyes rolled up, the sun shining on her dark hair and tanned skin, making her look like a living statue, frozen in time. Constant and eternal.

"Do you think we'll last forever?" he asked her.

"I can't see us not," Consuela answered. "But I suppose everyone thinks that at first."

"I can't see us not either," said Ciro. "But I've never been with anyone else before."

"Me neither," Consuela replied.

"Really?" asked Ciro.

Consuela shook her head.

"I love you," she said.

* * *

"He got better, didn't he?" Howard asked. Naboo could hear his voice trembling.

"A little bit," answered Naboo. "For a while we thought he'd be fine."

"He always bounced back," Howard said, so quietly that Naboo barely heard him. He smiled a little.

"He bounced up," said Naboo, "but not quite back to where he came from."

"He changed a lot," Naboo told him. "When he started eating again, he became a vegan. Gave up the sweets and everything. He… grew up. He started being responsible. It

"What do you mean?"

was strange."

"Did you like him like that?"

Naboo thought. "It was… different. Him, but different. As long as it was him, we were alright."

_Snapshots of memories._

_Vince is cooking, smiling, a large book open in front of him._

_Vince and Bollo laughing over a stir fry while Naboo runs off somewhere to get a good steak, sick of bloody rabbit food._

_Vince in a club, kissing a transvestite on the cheek._

_The three of them trying to convince bouncers at the student union that they were students, and failing._

_A game of ring of fire. Having to start every sentence with "quack"._

_Lying in bed and realising just how happy you are._

Howard turned back to the photo, and Naboo watched him trace the lines of Vince's thin waist with his finger.

"I never meant to hurt him," he said. "I always thought he'd be alright."

"I know. So did I."


	9. Lights Down

I really shouldn't be posting this because my essay (2000 words, research needed, due in Monday) is barely started and I know I need to get a shower and go to bed because I have had a raging hangover all day.

From getting rat-arsed at a Mighty Boosh party of all things, dressed as Ultra. And I don't know what happened to my leggings or my bow.

* * *

Ciro's heart began to thump and he could feel his face reddening. His hand slipped over along the wall and came to rest on Consuela's. He looked over, unable to meet her eye, and so focusing on her skirt. Then, knowing he should be brave, he raised his gaze to her face.

"I love you too."

* * *

"But you said he had eight months?" Howard said, almost weeping. "He lasted eight months before all this started."

Naboo felt fear rush through him once again. He hadn't thought of Howard misunderstanding him. Howard's eyes were already so open and so full of shock and disbelief that Naboo almost couldn't bear to tell him the truth. He badly wanted to lie, to make up some story about where Vince was now.

But it would be wrong.

"No, Howard," he said, as softly as he could, partly to calm Howard and partly to cover up the tremor in his own voice as old wounds were opened. "That all started instantly. He lasted eight months before he died."

_A memory. Naboo is reading, a cheap vaguely dirty magazine concealed inside an ancient book of shadows._

_Vince comes in. Naboo looks up. He looks nervous, resigned, a way that Naboo hasn't seen him look for a good while now._

"_Vince, what's wrong?" he asks._

_Vince sits down and looks him straight in the eye. "I want to die," he says._

_Naboo can't stop himself from flinging himself around Vince. "What? No, why?"_

_Vince doesn't answer. Perhaps he can't find the words._

"_I thought you were doing so well," Naboo tells him._

"_I try, it's just…" Vince trails off, and his eyes roll upwards as he tries to put the strange feelings, unknown motivations conflicting ideas and indescribable half-formed thoughts into words. "It doesn't work."_

_Naboo moves his hand from Vince's shoulder down to his hand. He squeezes. "Do you think it might?" he asks softly._

_Vince shakes his head. "He's not coming back." It is barely even a whisper, and Vince might not even realise that he said it out loud, but Naboo hears it, and his own faith in the universe is shaken when he hears that Vince's is anything but intact._

_He takes his hand and leads him to his bedroom. He lies him down, touching his shoulder tenderly, and leaves._

_They are in the bathroom, where they always have been. Just old prescription painkillers. Naboo can't remember whose they were. He takes them, and can't help thinking that they were meant to help people carry on with life, not end it. But they are doing their job. They are still killing pain._

"_Are you sure?" Naboo whispers as he re-enters the bedroom, pills in hand._

_Vince nods from the bed._

_Naboo sits on a decorated chair at Vince's side. He takes his hand in one of his own, and holds out the bottle of pills with the other._

_Vince smiles and raises his hand, barely able now to lift his head from the pillow. He takes as many three fingers can hold. "See you on the other side," he says, before he pushes them, all at once, into his mouth._

_Naboo doesn't tell him that he won't, at least not for a long long time._

_Vince lies back, chewing and swallowing. No distaste appears on his face. He closes his eyes and waits._

_His chest continues to rise, weakly now, and his grip, what little of it there was, on Naboo's hand feels even lighter. He tries to sit up, groaning, and manages to lift his hand toward the bottle again. Naboo holds it closer so he doesn't have to reach._

_Another fingerful, into his mouth, and gone as he lies passive and still._

_He reaches again, and Naboo moves the bottle straight to his fingers. He takes only two this time, and he can barely lift his hand to his mouth._

_He lies, eyes closed, and he looks at peace now. Then his eyes open, and they look deep into Naboo's._

_It is almost as if the shadows have crept on in to the empty room._

_The bottle is still over half full._

_Naboo falls over Vince's shell and cries, and cries, and cries._

Howard crumpled. He leant forward, eyes down, strands of untamed hair obscuring his face. He folded over, gripping and releasing his shins, not knowing what to do with his hands. Naboo had never seen a man of his size look so small.

Naboo faltered, not quite knowing what to do or say. "Do you want-"

"No," Howard gasped. "Don't tell me. At least not now. I can't handle it."

Howard stood, still seeming so small in Naboo's eyes despite towering over him, and stumbled to the door.

He left, and Naboo wondered if he would come back.

* * *

All he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat as he watched her face come closer, feeling disconnected in his knowledge that his was moving too. All became pulsating and pinkish red as his eyes closed, and he felt softness, her lips, on his own. Sweet, wet, soft.

He never wanted her to go, not even an inch.


	10. And Life Goes On

Thanks to everyone who read, everyone who reviewed. You make me happy. Which I need.

* * *

Outside, the sun was beginning to set and the sky had become pale orange.

Howard lurched as he fell out of Naboo's house, having to catch himself on the gatepost. He looked over and saw the children on the wall kissing.

_A memory. Hot sun bakes the slope of Misti as Miss Alison Lowe comes running down it, face glowing with joy and arms spread out to catch him._

"_Howard! Howard! You won't believe it; I'm pregnant!"_

Howard turned away, wanting to give them their privacy. He didn't know exactly why, but as he walked home, he cried.


End file.
